


Two-Headed Serpent

by callay



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Bodyswap, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: Harrow has always had the power to control Viren, to pull gasps from between Viren’s gritted teeth, to force Viren to his knees with only the force of his gaze. It seems fitting for him to take control of Viren’s body entirely.-(The one where Viren fantasizes about switching bodies with Harrow.)





	Two-Headed Serpent

**Author's Note:**

> I started thinking that Viren would actually be totally into switching bodies with Harrow, and here we are.

Viren descends to his hidden sanctum carrying the soulfang serpent. Its weight shifts inside the basket, slow and deliberate, an unfulfilled promise.

At first all Viren can feel is frustration. But Harrow’s question nags at him – whether Viren would be willing to give up his life. Viren had been stunned by the idea at first. He had only ever seen himself remaining like this, by Harrow’s side. But nothing can remain the same after tonight, he knows. By the time Viren shuts away the magical staircase to the sanctum behind him, he knows what he has to do.

He sets the basket on one of the shelves. There’s still time before sunset – he’ll review the spell one more time and give Harrow a little time to cool off before he goes back up and offers his body to Harrow.

Despite the grim prospect of the approaching elves, he can’t help feeling a spark of excitement. It will be much more interesting to experience the spirit switch himself than just to observe. This is hardly kind of procedure that can be tested ahead of time, so he can’t be sure how it will play out. Does the serpent draw out your spirit in an instant, or is it gradual, a slow drawing out of the soul? The spell he’s preparing is a powerful one – he tries to imagine it gripping his soul in a cool hand, yanking him from the serpent and pouring him into Harrow’s body. It’s a fascinating thought.

And from there, he can’t help imagining what it would feel like to inhabit Harrow’s body.

Harrow’s body must feel hot from the inside, powerful. Harrow’s broad shoulders and lean muscles take up space in a way that Viren never can. Viren finds that he wants to feel that, wants to walk out among the people with Harrow’s powerful strides and feel their loyal gazes on his face. He wants to feel the weight of the crown on a brow that was meant to support it.

A thrill runs through Viren at the thought. He can’t resist lingering on the fantasy, imagining the slow powerful beat of Harrow’s heart in his own chest, picturing his every movement translated into Harrow’s deliberate grace.

He imagines reaching up to touch his face – Harrow’s face – to feel his warm, smooth skin, his rough beard. He imagines his fingertips on Harrow’s lips, soft but firm, letting his fingers slip into his mouth to trace Harrow’s tongue.

Viren’s skin prickles with a rush of heat. He’s touched Harrow before, of course. Everything is rough and tense between them now, pleasure exchanged like a tithe, but there was a time years ago when it wasn’t like that. They were young, once, and lay together with their hands on each other’s bare skin, thrilling at the discovery of the ways their bodies fit together.

The thought of his spirit in Harrow’s body sparks an echo of that same excitement. Viren imagines running his hands down himself and feeling Harrow’s warm skin under his touch, Harrow’s broad chest and hard stomach. The firm swell of Harrow’s muscles, the sensation of Harrow’s hands rough against his own skin. Viren shudders at the thought, his stomach twisting with a surge of heat.

The rush of his breath sounds loud in the silence of his hidden sanctum. But there’s nobody here to hear him, nobody to see him as he steps back against the wall and closes his eyes. He has time – he’ll let himself explore this idea. It’s only logical, after all, to think through all the consequences of what he proposes to do.

If they exchanged spirits, Harrow would be in Viren’s body.

The mere thought unfurls a hot surge of want inside Viren. It’s a familiar sensation, an ache of need like a void waiting to be filled. After all, he already knows what it’s like to have Harrow inside him.

Compared to the arcane movement of souls, sex is trivial, a temporary joining of bodies. But Viren can’t help drawing the connection, remembering the feeling of Harrow buried deep inside him, pushing him into the mattress with each powerful roll of his hips. Harrow has always had the power to control Viren, to pull gasps from between Viren’s gritted teeth, to force Viren to his knees with only the force of his gaze. It seems fitting for him to take control of Viren’s body entirely.

A helpless shudder runs through Viren. His cock is hardening in his pants at the mere thought of this. And all he can think about is that if Harrow’s spirit were in Viren’s body, it would be Harrow feeling the hot swell of his cock, Harrow slipping a hand down to press against the eager push of it, just the way Viren is doing now.

Viren drags in a breath. The fate of the kingdom is at stake tonight, and it feels wrong to indulge in this fantasy. But Viren’s always had a flair for the forbidden, and this train of thought is too tempting to resist. He just wants one last moment to immerse himself in the pure heat of desire, the delicious twisted ache of want.

In a rush, he pulls open his pants, imagining that it’s Harrow’s will moving his hands instead his. He knows that Harrow would never want this – he’d be too proud, think himself too good for Viren’s body. But if desire were burning this hot in Harrow’s veins, would he be able to resist? Viren imagines him finally giving in, pushing his hand down to curl around his cock – Viren’s cock. He’d touch it slowly at first, deliberately, getting used to how it feels to stroke it, how the shape of it slides through his hand. Just like this.

Viren shudders. Pleasure spills through him as he starts to stroke himself, a tense shivering heat that gathers low in his belly. The sensation of pleasure is such a private feeling, he thinks, unknowable outside one’s own body. But if Harrow were inside him, he’d feel every bit of this, each eager twitch of his cock, each caught breath.

Somehow, the thought of Harrow experiencing something so personal sends a rush of need through Viren so acute he can barely breathe. He wants to seize that level of intimacy for himself, too. Wants to live in Harrow’s body, feel Harrow’s pleasure. He swallows a groan as he tries to imagine it, his fist moving faster on his cock.

He thinks Harrow’s body must burn hotter than his, bright and hot and strong. Pleasure must be potent in Harrow’s veins. Whatever Viren might tell himself, he’s always ached for Harrow’s pleasure, always thrilled secretly at the heat in Harrow’s eyes, the rough push of Harrow’s breath, the way Harrow’s grip tightens on Viren when Viren is giving him what he wants.

Suddenly Viren wants Harrow to get on his knees in Viren’s body, the way Viren has so many times before. Viren wants to experience for himself everything Harrow feels when Viren sucks his cock: the slick friction of Viren’s mouth, the thrum of need that makes Harrow’s hand fist in Viren’s hair, the fierce, addictive rush of power that he can see burning in Harrow’s eyes.

The thought leaves Viren breathless, makes his back arch against the wall as he pushes into his fist. But no – Harrow would never do that. No matter what body he was in, Harrow would still be too proud and stubborn to get on his knees.

Which means it would be Viren in Harrow’s body kneeling instead. Viren imagines the scene, his heart pounding. Harrow’s body regal and handsome even on his knees, leaning in with his eyes closed and his mouth wet and open, eager for the push of Viren’s cock.

Viren grits his teeth around a groan. He clutches the image in his mind, picturing it, Harrow’s body on his knees, Viren’s body holding all the power of the throne. Viren’s cock pushing demandingly into Harrow’s mouth, fierce hard thrusts the way Harrow always does it. Until Viren in Harrow’s body is gasping, his lips swollen from the friction, his chin wet with spit.

Viren’s breath catches, his hand stuttering on his cock. Maybe, he thinks, maybe Harrow would fuck him after the switch. God, Viren’s own body braced over the king’s, his mouth drawn into a firm line, his movements full of Harrow’s strength and confidence. Viren pictures Harrow’s body on the bed, trembling with that desperate ache of need, his muscular thighs spread, his round ass flush against Viren’s hips.

Viren knows Harrow would never let himself be vulnerable like that. Even when they were young, even before Harrow was king, he wouldn’t allow it. But Viren’s spirit could force him into it – could humble Harrow’s body, open it, leave it trembling and eager. The thought courses through Viren like lightning, like the purest dark magic, power seized through the perversion of reality.

It leaves him breathless. The need running through him is almost unbearable, building and building as he strokes himself, his hand moving in tight jerks under the flushed head of his cock.

There are so many facets to this fantasy, forbidden images that spread hot through his mind, until he’s not even sure who he’s imagining doing what anymore. He wishes they could both be in both bodies, their souls mingling, all the private intimacies of their bodies laid bare before each other.

He’s braced against the wall, his head tilting back, his body pushing trembling into each jerk of his fist. Climax is swelling up inside him, unstoppable as the rise of the moon.

He imagines he’s about to come in Harrow’s body.

He imagines it’s Harrow’s muscles tensing, Harrow’s mouth falling open around each ragged gasp. He looks down at himself, his fist moving desperately on his cock, and imagines it’s Harrow’s cock filling his hand instead, thicker and heavier than his own. The broad head of it slick with Harrow’s precome, the throb of Harrow’s blood under the tight grip of his fingers.

When he comes, it’s so hard he can’t breathe, so hard he can barely cling to the fantasy: that the hot pulses of his cock are Harrow’s, that the pleasure surging white-hot through him is Harrow’s pleasure.

He’s left gasping, his body shaking. It takes him a long moment to get his breath back.

He’s not taken aback by the power of the fantasy. That’s always the way of magic, digging into your vulnerable spots, burning you from the inside out with temptation. He’s learned to love the thrill of it, to let the darkness run its course before he clears his head and makes a rational decision.

He’s clear-headed now, tugging his clothes straight, muttering a quick spell to clean up. His gaze falls on the basket holding the serpent.

He knows that even if he convinces Harrow to switch spirits, none of what he just imagined will happen. His only reward will be death by an elven blade.

But Harrow will live. Harrow, who Viren’s mind revolves around like the stars spin around the earth.

That’s going to have to be enough. He takes a final deep breath and then, grimly satisfied, he picks up the basket and makes his way back to the throne room.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [calllay](https://calllay.tumblr.com/post/178585998734/two-headed-serpent-callay-the-dragon-prince) on Tumblr!


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